To Nearly Forget
by rosa lunae
Summary: A Wonderbat follow up to Batman Rebirth #39 and #40. Bruce and Diana struggle to adjust after returning from their 37 year war. Then, after the sudden death of a beloved one, Diana gets the request from The Gentle Man for another reprieve from the Hordes. This time, Diana goes alone. When Bruce finds out, all hell breaks loose.
1. To Nearly Forget

_So, I have all the feelings about Batman issues 39 and 40, with the Wonder Woman team up and the THIRTY-SEVEN YEAR BATTLE. I have literally all the feelings. I love the art. I love that Diana and Bruce had this agreement, that he is the one she trusts at her back and vice-versa. I love the art, I love their chemistry... ANY NORMAL PEOPLE WOULD BEGIN TO FORGET THEIR FORMER LOVERS AFTER THAT MANY YEARS, PEOPLE, IT DOES NOT MAKE THEM EVIL CHEATERS. I also appreciate their reluctance, their desire to remain good, even in the midst of literal hell._

 _I don't really hate Steve Trevor, he's a decent character. Selina Kyle is a decent character on her own. But I read this comic like... man. Wonderbat is better than this. Like... what the hell is Selina going to do if she fights in that battle? Just give them someone to worry about because Selina isn't a master warrior like Bruce and Diana. And Selina was the one who suggested that plan, not Bruce. And Diana wasn't always in-character in my humble opinion- she barely mentioned Steve, never said she missed him._

 _So, after that crap ending and all the feelings, and I knew this one-shot had to be written._

To Nearly Forget

"The Hordes of Gehenna forever try to break our realm. Their numbers derive from the sin of man. And so their numbers are endless. However thankfully- forever standing between their apocalypse and our existence is The Gentle Man. Years ago, on a League mission, Wonder Woman and I discovered this fight. We battled briefly at The Gentle Man's side. We felt the nobility, the impossibility of his burden. There's no way out. The portal to this realm can only be opened from our side. Without respite, he'd been fighting for thousands of years. And he was prepared to fight for thousands more. 'The horde is everlasting,' he said. Before Zatanna pulled us away- we offered him one day to come back. To take his place for a while. To let him rest. He has now accepted our offer." - Bruce to Selina, from _Batman: Rebirth_ #39

XXX

In February 2018, time ceased to pass in the usual way for Bruce Wayne and Diana of Themyscira. A span of moments that would have equaled thirty-seven years passed for them while Gotham lost less than a day. For thirty-seven years, Diana and Bruce knew nothing but battle and each other. There were moments, moments when they were tempted to seek comfort in each other, moments when their memories of Steve Trevor and Selina Kyle blurred into a distant dream.

They resisted; Batman was engaged; Diana, in love. But neither could deny that between them existed a mutual respect, a rare trust, a deep love, and a physical spark that could ignite them both at any moment.

When they found themselves back, everyone else found them different.

Bruce offered more affection to Selina and the Bat clan, made a more visible effort to spend time with them that didn't involve hunting criminals. There was a desperation in his efforts, like time was running out. Selina never told him how many times he screamed Diana's name in his sleep. It wasn't romantic, she knew; these were shouted warnings, howls of desperation, even dread or mourning. He wasn't dreaming of being in her bed, whispering her name in passion. No, he was remembering their battle or watching her die.

Still, each time she heard Diana's name on his lips cracked Selina's heart a little more.

Diana withdrew into herself. She became quiet and sad, completing her duties with the Justice League competently then vanishing. She continued to assist the US military and take independent action when someone needed help, but she did not stick around to speak to the team or civilians. She forced a smile when anyone asked how she was, changing the subject with all her skill as an ambassador.

To Kal-El, she offered a bit more honesty: "I am trying to remember that I loved this life."

But Clark's faith in her was unshakable. "She just needs time," he said patiently to Bruce. No one in the Justice League was more concerned than Bruce, and Bruce she studiously avoided. When she couldn't avoid him though, her behavior was impeccable and only around him did she seem more herself- she was warm, teasing, kind, alive. And Bruce, as was his wont, saw it all. She was with him so rarely, and by her own design, but when they were together, she was Diana again.

As the weeks since the Hordes blurred to months, Bruce became frantic. But, since his own wedding was only weeks away and the Joker escaped from Arkham with a handful of other baddies, Bruce let Diana slip to the back of his anxious mind to simmer.

He planned to confront Steve Trevor, for Diana's own good. What was Trevor doing that she continued to fade?! He was tracking Trevor's movements, planning a meeting, when Trevor went off the grid with the military and the next day, the Joker escaped and all hell broke loose. A week passed before Bruce could surface again, and when he did, it all came crashing down.

Clark was waiting in the Batcave with Selina and Alfred, both troubled. Bruce had barely seen them in days, hardly sleeping and dealing with the Joker releasing an EMP and destroying his comms. Habit would have him bark at the Man of Steel for barging into Gotham, but Bruce's battered body shook with adrenaline when he saw the deep circles carved into the invulnerable skin under Clark's eyes. And for once, Selina's face was unreadable.

"What now?" Bruce demanded, jerking off his cowl. "Is it Diana?"

Neither man saw Selina wince.

Clark blinked. "You truly didn't know. I thought... I don't know what I thought."

"I've been busy, now _what. is. it._ Is she okay?"

Selina closed her eyes.

"Bruce, Steve Trevor was killed in action last week. His memorial service was six days ago."

Bruce stared at his friend, not seeing Clark, but seeing Batman's every action in the last week play out before his eyes and weighing against having not been there for the woman who'd been there for him for thirty seven years. "Where is Diana."

Somehow, it wasn't a question. Selina flinched again.

The Man of Steel folded into a chair, dropping his head into his hands. "I was there. Barry was there. We were watching her, Bruce, through the whole service. She was wearing her usual habit-sword, shield and all-under a hooded white cloak. She handled it; she gave a eulogy. She was devastated, of course, but holding it together, talked about Steve as a valiant warrior who died in battle, the man who opened her eyes to the world. At the graveside, she dropped a rose. Then she was gone."

"What?" He growled the word.

"She was gone, Bruce. Barry and I were both watching her-"

"Were you?!"

"-but she vanished. Left the white cloak by the coffin. We found her League communicator in the cloak, alone with a tracker from WayneTech. She's been totally off the grid for six days."

Selina's mouth dropped open at the word "tracker." Alfred coughed quietly.

"She probably found that tracker weeks ago," Bruce said, unperturbed. "She left it on her belt to humor me. I felt better knowing I could find her." He dropped into a computer chair, slid to the monitors. "She had to leave a trace somewhere."

Alfred cleared his throat, waited until everyone looked at him. With a look to Selina-apologetic?- he moved the screen displaying a map of Gotham, and pointed to a specific spot. "There was a brief energetic disturbance here," the butler said grimly, "about four days ago."

Bruce went perfectly still, his blood cold. Selina gasped, "No!"

"What?" Clark demanded.

"Four days..." Bruce whispered, staring white-faced at the map.

"That is the same location where Her Highness opened the portal to The Gentle Man's realm," Alfred explained quietly. Nothing else needed to be said; Clark paled.

"I did not think anything of it," Alfred continued, looking grim, "not until this very moment. Master Wayne was half-dead when it happened, and this... it was just a blip."

"Four days..." Bruce shuddered. "Selina, last time..."

"10 hours, 17 minutes," Selina answered grimly.

Unsaid: that was 37 years with the Hordes.

"Dear God," Clark said. "She's been there for centuries by now."

Bruce stood, and his companions noticed something new in his eyes, something they'd rarely seen there: panic. "Three," he said. "Three and a half centuries. Over three hundred and fifty five years, if the rate is consistent."

He swallowed. "The Gentle Man... he would have gone to Angela, his wife. Clark, Diana is the one who opened the portal before- the magic in her sword," Bruce said.

"That's the same way Julian opened it," Selina supplied quietly,

Bruce nodded. "And he's the only other one I know who can open it. Zatanna is the one who saved us the first time, but she didn't open the portal exactly... she went around it. I need to find both of them."

"But why would Diana..." Selina began.

"It doesn't matter," Bruce snapped, leaning over his console and typing furiously. "What matters is that she did. We have to get her back. Every second counts."

"You went together last time," Clark said. "From what Diana told me, that made a difference. Could she even survive for so long?"

"Of course she can," Bruce snarled into his keyboard. "She's an Amazon. Besides, there has been no apocalypse. As long our dimension remains safe from the Hordes, Diana lives."

The phone rang. Bruce ignored it, zeroing in on Zatanna's location. Alfred answered it, then his eyebrows shot up.

"Miss Zatanna, for you, sir."

Bruce swiped the phone, stabbed the speakerphone button. "You already know," he guessed flatly.

Zatanna's voice on the phone said, "She sent me a letter."

Bruce froze. "Tell me."

"I mean, an actual letter. In the actual mail. That's why it took days to reach me. I just got home from all this Arkham shit, and it was in my mailbox. Bruce, I'm so sorry-"

"Tell me what it says," he ordered.

"Dear Zatanna," she read, voice trembling. "The Gentle Man has contacted me again to ask for another reprieve. The timing must be ordained by the gods, because with Steve gone, I long to battle, to rage, to weep. Months ago, I agreed to summon Batman and Catwoman when this call came, but I cannot. It is too much for me to bear, the thought of losing someone else I love so soon. Their wedding is coming- they deserve some peace to enjoy it. Let The Gentle Man be with his wife, let Bruce be happy with his. It is my gift to them both. Bruce deserves to be free from this place.

"I am writing you, Zee, because I am not sure The Gentle Man- Julian- will come back for me. Perhaps he will decide his thousands of years were gift enough to this world. And if that is the case, then I will take his place. Tell my mother I love her, if you can find her. And tell Kal and Barry that it was a good effort, and I love them for it. Tell Selina and Bruce to be happy. Do not bring me back, Zatanna; the Hordes are everlasting, and someone must stand guard or the end of our world will be at hand. Julian must make his choice as I have made mine.

"I love you all. I am sorry I showed my love so poorly over the past few months, but it's only because I nearly forgot. Now, with Steve gone, I will always remember, no matter how many years pass.

"All my love to you all,

Diana."

Zatanna paused, hesitating.

"Finish it," Bruce demanded.

She sucked in a deep breath, and read, "PS: Bruce? Forgive me."

A silence like death descended on the Cave for nearly thirty seconds before Bruce exploded. With a wordless shout, he threw his chair across the room, then braced himself on the console, shuddering. They were all shocked to see tears in his eyes.

For a moment, no one dared break it.

Then Selina said, "I know where he lives."

And ruthlessly, Bruce pulled his cowl back on, shutting down his fear and his guilt, turning his rage into cold calculation. "So do I," he said. "Zatanna, get some rest. We may need your help if he rabbits." He hung up unceremoniously, pulled up footage of Angela's last known address, studied it.

Clark crossed his arms, studying the image and committing the location to memory. "You think he'll make a break for it? Take his wife and run, so he doesn't have to return to the Horde?"

Bruce glanced briefly at Selina, who offered him a sad smile. He didn't return it, but said, "Maybe. I thought about it." Lights clicked off on the lower level of the house. "Looks like someone's home."

He stood, began restocking his utility belt.

"What do you want me to do?" Clark wondered.

"Alert the Founders," Bruce said, not looking up as he worked. "The League may need to take action as the fate of the world and Wonder Woman are at stake. We need Wonder Woman, and we need someone to fight the Hordes."

Selina moved to suit up with him. "What are you going to do, Bruce? We can't exactly force Julian to go back again against his will."

He secured his belt, straightened. "I can do exactly that and I will if it comes to it. But I have a backup plan."

"Which is?" Clark prompted.

"I need his sword."

XXX

 _When there was a break in the slaughter, she would find water, build up the fire, eat, and try to remember. "I am Diana," she would say aloud, over the crackle of flames. "I am Diana of Themyscira."_

 _Sometimes, if the Hordes took longer to regroup, she would remember more. "I am Princess of the Amazons, daughter of Hippolyta. I am a founding member of the Justice League."_

 _If she had time to sleep, she fell asleep listing their names. "Steve. Etta. Bruce. Kal-El. Barry. Jessica. Baz. Lois. Victor. Selina. Arthur. Mera. Zatanna..." until the world faded until the Hordes woke her again._

 _If she had time to wash the gore from her body, to clean her wound that were taking longer and longer to heal each day, she would remind herself of more. "I used to like ice cream," she would tell the stream. "And iced mochas. I loved a man who died. Steve." And even after so many years, she felt an ache in her soul at the loss, the phantom pain of a limb she'd lost long ago. How long, she was unsure; she'd stopped tracking the days after the first century._

" _And I loved a man who lived," she told the shadows of the Horde, just barely visible on the horizon, getting closer. "Even with those little ears."_

 _Dispassionately, she watched them crash towards her. She hefted her shield, swung her sword. "I am Diana of Themyscira," she said again. Then she screamed. And attacked._

XXX

The Gentle-Man did not run. He was in his wife's home, opened the door comfortably after living there for four days. He did not flinch when he opened the door to the Bat, did not resist when Batman tackled him to the ground, gripping a razor sharp blade to the man's throat, forearm crushing his windpipe.

"I am tempted not to be afraid, Batman," Julian wheezed, "Because my wife has told me that you do not kill."

Batman pressed on the man's windpipe, drew a few shallow red lines across the man's throat. He then pressed the blade against the corner of Julian's right eye, applied pressure, keeping the point bare millimeters away from the milky white. "I would not kill you if you asked me to," the Bat said, "and I can get you to ask. It wouldn't take long."

Catwoman watched, having come in through the back door. "She's not here," she said.

Julian shook his head. "No. We have stayed in for days, soaking in every moment. She finally left to check in at work. She felt terrible for taking time off during this Arkham chaos. She's not here."

Batman did not move. He wanted to hurt this man so badly, thinking of every moment Diana had been gone, imagining every cut, every bite, every lonely night. His hand began to shake, so Julian wisely closed his eyes.

"You know why I've come. Are you going to be difficult?" he growled.

"My wife," Julian said.

"We'll watch over her," Catwoman said, her voice barely a murmur.

"I didn't say goodbye," Julian said.

"Because you didn't plan to." Batman dragged the other man to his feet, began wrestling him toward the door. But Julian surprised him by cooperating.

"No," Julian said, allowing himself to be manhandled into the waiting Batmobile. "I wanted to belong here. But after four days, I know... I do not. I have been at war and alone for too long. I cannot... fully... come back."

Foreboding chilled Bruce's blood, but he ruthlessly ignored it. He waited for Cat's door to shut, then gunned the engine. "Diana will be different."

"Perhaps not. By the time we reach the portal, it will have been nearly four hundred years."

Batman said, "You do not know her. Whatever you think you know about her is nothing, nothing to the truth."

"I know she is an Amazon," Julian said. He had noticed the Catwoman stiffen, but said nothing about it.

"Then you know she is a warrior-more than you, more than I. But that is a shade of Diana, a single strand of her hair. If you knew her, you'd better grasp what you've done."

Unfazed, Julian met the Bat's gaze in the rearview mirror. "It has only been four days for you," he said, "And I bet you didn't know she was gone until the last hour. That's the only explanation for why it took you so long. Still, your four days pales to my thousands of years."

A low growl rumbled from Batman's throat, a beastly sounds that alarmed even The Gentle Man.

"It has been only a few months for your wife since she last saw you," Batman answered. "Her few months of loneliness is nothing to Diana's centuries of battle."

Julian said, "Diana is not your wife."

"She matters," Batman said. And The Gentle Man could not argue with that.

When they parked, Batman moved to drag Julian toward the spot where he'd summoned the portal, but Julian went willingly. He was in his armor between one blink and the next; Bruce hated magic on principle, but this time, barely noticed.

"Go," Batman said. No apologies or regrets or promises, Julian noticed, hefting his sword. He hesitated.

"She will be different," he told them with grim certainty. "It has been too long for her not to be. Thirty seven years, the last time? She's been gone nearly ten times that and all alone. She will need time. Trust me. A lot of it."

Batman didn't move. "I'll take care of her," he said.

With a grim nod, Julian replaced his helmet. He glanced back at the Cat, her goggles for once pulled over her face. "I am sorry," he told her. Then he faced forward again, quieter than his previous return.

"Oh, Angela," he whispered. Then he howled and slammed the sword down into the ground.

In a flash of light, he was gone.

Diana, covered in blood and gore, sword raised over her head, stood in his place.

XXX

She froze, noticing the quiet first.

The howling wind on the bare crags, the hissing demons, her own war cries... they had been her only music for years. Now, she was in a park, surrounded by trees, and behind them, tall buildings with windows glittering like stars. Everything was still, including the two figures in trees nearby that thought they were hiding from her. Even they were still.

No, she corrected, hearing the cars driving by, the blurred voices of people walking nearby, the two figures breathing carefully. Just peaceful. Nothing trying to kill her. Whispering wild life, living plants, and fellow humans nearby. Peace.

Her sword clattered to the sidewalk. She dropped to her knees, folded herself over them, and wept.

XXX

Batman would have waited longer for her to orient, but as soon as she fell and her heart-breaking sobs rent the air, Bruce was helpless. He could not stop himself from dropping from the tree, could think of nothing else but being next to her. All those thirty seven years, they'd been together, kept each other sane, kept each other from giving up, saved each other's lives... every moment of those years pressed on his mind, and yet, he knew, she'd just had 10 times as many moments with no one beside her. And it hurt him, physically hurt him to know that.

Diana gulped her cries back, quieted herself. She was listening to him approach, he knew. Always a warrior, she was, even now. He took slow steps, gentle steps until he was beside her, until he was kneeling very slowly next to her, covering her hand with his own. As his black gauntlet brushed her silver bracers, she began to cry again, softer this time.

He could think of nothing to say. So he knelt there, holding her hand, and waited.

After a few minutes, her weeping slowed to trembling, punctuated by occasional sniffs. Bruce began inventorying her wounds. He wanted to take her home so badly it hurt, but he waited.

Finally, Diana lifted her face again. She met his gaze, took in his cowl. Something formed in her face that looked like hope.

"Br..." She stopped herself from saying his real name, even when he wouldn't have bothered. Even now, Diana protected him. "Is it... is it you?" she whispered. She freed one of her hands, gently cupped his face with it, ran her thumb over his chin. He let her, even leaned a little into her hand.

"Diana," he said.

She startled at her name, at the sound of his voice; he held both her hands in his own as they knelt before each other.

She used her upper arm to swip blood from one eye, then returned her hand to his face. "I am Diana of Themyscira," she recited. "I am daughter of Hippolyta and-"

"Princess of the Amazons," Bruce said, adding his voice to hers, covering her hand with his own. "Yes, Princess. You know who you are."

"I feared I would forget." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I lost track of time long ago. Even now, I fear you are just a dream."

Their faces were close together now; neither noticed the ache in their knees.

"I'm here," Bruce said again. He let go of her hands, placed his hands on her bare shoulders. "Diana. You're home."

She sighed, closed her eyes, leaned forward until her forehead rested against his.

" _Αστέρι της ζωής μου_." She breathed the unfamiliar Greek words into his ear then pulled away. "Will you forgive me?"

He pulled her slowly to her feet, supporting her when she wobbled under the adrenaline crash. "Probably," he said blandly. "You prevented an apocalypse for over 400 years, Princess. It was foolish to go alone, but of anyone, you were the best for the job."

She nodded, sliding her sword into its place on her back, checking for her shield and lasso instinctively. "After Steve died... I could not bear it. You should know before you bestow your forgiveness that I do not regret my choice."

He actually smiled, stunning her. "Of course not, Princess." His voiced laughed at her, drunk with the relief of her return, the spark of her true self in that stubborn declaration. She tried to return his smile, felt her face wobble around the forgotten sensation. "I will be angry about it later," he said.

"What of The Gentle Man?" she wondered.

"He went back willingly." Batman said."Once we found him."

And for the first time since Diana had blinked into existence, he remembered Selina. He turned, feeling something drop and break in him as he looked for his fiance.

Catwoman had remained in her tree, goggles pulled over her eyes, but he saw the tension in her mouth. But he was surprised to see Superman hovering near her. He floated to the ground as Diana saw him too.

"Αδελφός!" Diana cried, stumbling towards him. "Kal!"

Clark closed the distance between them and caught her in his arms, pulled her into a tight embrace. And even though Bruce knew the word meant _brother,_ jealousy still squeezed his chest as he watched. When he looked up at Selina, he knew she knew it too.

"Diana, do you remember how to fly?" Bruce heard Clark say.

She hesitated.

"She needs to be treated," Batman barked. Her wounds barely looked better, and she was still covered in blood.

Undeterred, Superman turned to Diana. "To the Cave, then. Shall we?"

Diana turned towards Batman, and the look in her eyes-so uncertain, so sad- had him taking a step toward her instinctively. He watched her swallow, watched her glance towards Selina in the tree, and force a smile. He saw guilt that he couldn't yet feel in her eyes.

"Race you?" she managed. Bruce nodded. "But you- no _up, up, and away_ from you. It's pretentious."

"Yes, Your Highness." Superman grinned, hovering a bit and reaching for her hand. She reached for it, but stayed on the ground"You will remember," he assured her. And he grabbed her hand and took off.

Batman and Catwoman studied each other for a moment, and without saying a word, both disappeared into the Batmobile and sped off.

XXX

In the air, Superman helped to coax Diana's flight back out of her, and after an instant of terror, she remembered, and they flew next to each other.

"Diana," he said, and neither of them struggled to hear each other through the wind thanks to preternatural hearing. "I'm so sorry about Steve. You vanished before I could say it."

She sent him a wry glance. "I have had what must have been a few centuries-"

"About four," he supplied helpfully.

"-to cope with losing Steve. And I did not stop missing him, but the memories do not sting anymore. He died honorably, and we shared something truly special. I loved him."

"You were different, Diana, so different after you and Bruce returned. I am worried for you, after being gone for so long and alone this time."

She was focused on the city below them, fascinated by the lights. "I have been a warrior for years, but always, with the goal of peace. But the Hordes were everlasting... there was no hope for peace. So...Those years changed me, changed how I..." she trailed off.

"How you felt about Bruce?" Clark ventured softly. He gently corrected her course, moving slightly ahead to guide her to one of the Batcave's secret entrances.

From behind him, she said, "Yes. Kal... I am ashamed. He is engaged. Or... have they married already? I don't know how long..."

"The wedding is set for a couple months from now," Clark said. "Only four days passed here, Diana... nearly four hundred years for you." He turned to face her. "What do you have to be ashamed of? You have done nothing wrong. You were true to Steve. From what you told me, you and Bruce stayed true, even after thirty-seven years of knowing only each other in constant near-death experiences. If that isn't true and honorable and strong... then I don't know what is."

She sighed roughly, following his veer towards the ground. "I love him, Kal. Steve struggled too, with how close Bruce and I had become, and I struggled with my feelings for them both. Steve and I were talking it all through, working on it... then Steve died. And after years of mourning Steve among the Hordes, I realized I still loved Bruce. I always will. But I want him to be happy; if he is happiest with Selina, then that is what I want."

Kal offered her a sad smile over his shoulder as they neared the ground, and when their feet touched down, pulled her into another hug. "Whatever happens, I'm here for you."

She held him tight. "Thank you, brother."

XXX

In the Batmobile, the silence and tension was thick enough to choke, but Batman and Catwoman were formidable foes for silence. But as they closed in on the Batcave, Selina broke it.

"You were not bad, Bruce. Not then. Now now. But you have not been the same since the two of you returned. And just now, when you were with her... you forgot about me."

His silence confirmed it. Muscles worked in his jaw as he drove, and his face was unreadable as usual.

"You did nothing wrong- not now, not then. But I can't keep going like this."

He slumped, just slightly, leaning towards the wheel as if he wanted to escape into it. "Selina... I'm sorry. You deserve better."

"What are you sorry for?" she challenged.

He made a rough sound. "For hurting you. For feeling... this way."

"Feeling what?" she wanted to hear it, even knowing it would hurt.

He glanced at her, and she read sadness in his eyes. "I love you," he said.

"But?"

He guided the Batmobile into the hanger, which folded up and disappeared back into its camouflage. He turned off the car, could see Alfred, Clark, and Diana at the console. Alfred led her to a chair as they watched, and began to tend her wounds. Bruce wanted... he wanted to do that. They'd washed each other's wounds out before. He turned back to Selina.

"But I need Diana. I love her too."

XXX

"Master Kent, if you wouldn't mind bringing that platter over," Alfred said, concentrating on his stitching. Diana didn't move or react as he closed a deep gash across her back- she'd fallen asleep. "I suspect Her Highness could use more than coffee and cakes, but at least we'll have something close by if she awakes." He'd already started an IV to help her hydrate.

Clark brought it over, taking in a long sniff of the coffee and spiced cake. He helped himself to a slice, then set the platter on the counter near Diana. He plopped down into the chair next to her. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Alfred shook his head. "I placed a call to Dr. Thompkins; Leslie will be discreet and respectful. I am not used to the Princess needing stitches, after all. I am hoping that she is simply taking longer to heal because of how truly exhausted her body has become, and that she will heal as usual with more time."

"She will need time to re-adjust to our world, to not being alone at war nearly every moment of every day for centuries. Maybe I should take her to the Watchtower..."

"No," came a sharp voice from behind them. Both men turned to watch Bruce approach, now wearing black sweats. "She will stay here. Too many people on the Watchtower... she will need quiet. She can go back there when she's ready."

Neither commented on Selina's absence.

"Leslie's coming?" Bruce confirmed, and Alfred nodded. "Good." He knelt down before Diana, removed her boots. Clark watched as Bruce pulled a handful of bed bath wipes from the packet, and began wiping blood from Diana's right leg and foot, revealing scars and open cuts and scrapes. The Man of Steel hissed in sympathy as Bruce's ministrations revealed Diana's right ankle to be purple and swollen.

"Goddamnit, Diana," Bruce whispered.

"Sorry," she answered. The three men stilled.

"I smell food," she said, sounding sheepish. With a smile, Clark handed her a slide of the spice cake. "Alfred made it," he told her. He noticed that Bruce had moved to her left leg.

"It's delicious, of course," she whispered, savoring it like a priceless delicacy.

"Thank you, Your Highness." Alfred cocked his head when quiet chime reverberated through Batcave. "I believe that is Dr. Thompkins. Excuse me."

Clark stood hastily, taking another slice of cake then hustling after Alfred. "I'll come with you," he said. "I was thinking ice cream would go well with this cake."

Diana smiled.

"Excellent idea, Master Kent," Alfred said, and their voices faded as they walked away, leaving Diana and Bruce finally alone.

Bruce finished cleaning Diana's other leg, leaned back on his haunches and looked up at her. Her bottom lip trembled, just as her leg had as he'd gently washed her wounds and cleared the blood.

"Thank you," she said. Her eyes went sad. "Where is Selina?"

Bruce rose, disposed of his gloves and the wipes, then sat next to Diana. "She's at her place tonight. We are taking a break. Postponing the wedding."

"For how long?" Diana wondered, just above a whisper.

"Indefinitely," Bruce said.

"I am s-"

Bruce held up a hand. "You did nothing wrong, so please, Diana, do not apologize."

She was quiet; machines hummed, and Bruce vaguely noticed something dripping and made a mental note to find the leak.

"All those months after we came back," Bruce said, "you were so sad. Except when you were with me. But you avoided me. Why?"

She shrugged. The memories were foggy, but there. "You made me happy, but I felt ashamed. I knew you were with Selina, and I felt guilty that I felt like myself with you but not with Steve. We were... working on it."

Bruce raked a hand through his messy hair. "That's better than how I was handling it with Selina."

She glanced at him. "You felt... similarly?"

Slowly, Bruce nodded. "I've had nightmares for months- you were hurt, or sometimes, you died. And when we realized where you'd gone... I panicked."

"You never panic," she said.

"I panicked," he repeated. "And when you reappeared, I thought only of you."

The ensuing silence was gentle.

"I found your tracker weeks before Steve died," Diana said. She pointed to her left bracer, where he'd slipped the tiny magnet under the metal.

Bruce smiled, a nervous boyish expression that nearly took Diana's breath. "I figured," he said. "But it helped me to cope with having you far away, knowing that I could find you again."

She returned his smile, and it felt more natural on her face this time. "Yes," she replied. "Exactly. So I left it there."

They heard voices, far away.

"Where does this leave us?" Diana wondered.

Bruce shrugged, unconcerned with details at the moment, more concerned with getting her to rest. "I don't care, as long as we are together," he said, making it sound natural and uncomplicated. "Please stay here, Diana. For a while. Take your time adjusting."

She nodded slowly, glancing towards Alfred, Dr. Thompkins, and Clark, who carried yet another platter of food.

"I will stay for a while," she agreed. And deciding, she took a deep breath and said, " _Σ'αγαπώ_."

Bruce didn't exactly smile, but his face opened, relaxed, brightened, and he held her gaze for a long time before replying, "Και επιστρέφω την αγάπη σου." Then he quirked a half-smile. "We can figure the rest out when you're not half-dead, okay, Princess?"

She snagged his hand, held it for a moment. "If anyone can, it's you, Detective."


	2. Damaged

_Surprise! It's been a while, and I felt like continuing this. Not sure how far I will take it, so we'll go chapter by chapter, for now. It's vaguely set in the comic universe, but I'm basically ignoring everything that happened after Batman issues 39 and 40, so you don't have to know much of the current comics to follow along other than those issues. Enjoy!_

 _-rosa_

Damaged

The Everlasting Hordecame each night as ruthlessly as it had before, but this time, the demons came for Diana in her sleep. The Egyptian cotton sheets and lush down comforter of her guest bed in Wayne manor were soft on her skin but could not offer any succor to her spirit's suffering. She woke screaming each night, at some point, the sheets soaked in sweat.

The first night, Bruce had been with her; he'd called in favors among all his allies in Gotham so that that first night, he could sit in her room all night and wait for the moment he knew would come. The chair was comfortable, and he was a nocturnal creature. Diana was exhausted to the bone after nearly four hundred years of constant battle, so her sleep was deep until nearly sunrise, when she began to moan and toss. He dared not wake her, knowing she could accidently kill him if he startled her and she wasn't careful. Though it hurt him to watch her wrestle with the dream, he waited for the moment when she shot up in bed with a gasp.

"Diana, you're home," he said quickly from the chair, half-rising before he could force himself to settle back down in it, to be calm and unthreatening. "You were having a nightmare."

Her wild eyes took a long moment to clear, but then she recognized him, glanced around the room, and let herself fall back to the pillows. "Oh, Bruce," she murmured. "I felt sure that _you_ were the dream, that I had not really come home."

"I can imagine," he said, finally standing and crossing slowly to the bed. "It felt the same when we returned the first time, for me."

She closed her eyes, listening to his footballs. Unlike most people, she could hear him most of the time. Her senses were not quite so sharp as Clark's, but she was far more used to using hers than the Kryptonian was, since she'd had many, _many_ more years of practice. So, Diana wasn't surprised when Bruce cautiously touched her hand; she let her fingers entwine with his, and he squeezed them, hard enough to make her eyes open in surprise.

"I am real," he said. "You are home."

"You said that often enough in my dreams for the last four hundred years," she replied. "My mind is damaged, Bruce; it does not know which reality to trust."

"I am real," he repeated, sitting on the bed next to her. "Trust your senses, Diana, if you cannot trust your mind. Anchor yourself in the present moment- what do you see, hear, feel, smell, taste- dreams rarely touch every sense."

And so she wondered if she should taste him to be sure. But instead, she simply let herself feel his hand and how hard he was squeezing her fingers, almost enough to hurt. She let herself hear the sound of Wayne Manor's birds waking up outside the open window, the sounds of cars on the street. She could smell, even from here, the smells of bacon and cinnamon from the kitchen. She looked at him for a long moment, and he didn't look away.

"Yes," she decided. "That will help."

Alfred brought them both breakfast in her room, and she fell asleep again shortly after eating it. Bruce Wayne did not appear at Wayne Enterprises that day, as he'd fallen asleep in that chair in his guest room again. He woke when he heard her scream and every nerve in his body seized.

"Diana," he breathed, meeting her dream-ridden eyes. "It was a dream. You're here now. You are safe."

And like she had when she'd first appeared in that Gotham park, she rested her face on her drawn-up knees and wept. He sat on the bed next to her and held her until she had no more tears left.

Then, she looked up, touched the stubble on his face, and sighed. "You never had this in my dreams," she said. "So I am back in reality once more."

He managed a small smile for her. "Welcome back," he said. "How are you feeling?"

She let her hand fall back to the bed. "I think I am healing again. My ankle doesn't hurt anymore." She lifted her bare arms for him to study; the various bruises were turning yellow, the gashes closed into pink scars. "My body is recovering, though a bit slower than I am used to. It is a good reminder for me to be humble, to know my body has limits."

Bruce's mind agreed though his heart did not.

That day, she'd left the bed, dressing in the soft pajamas and robe that she found in the guest room wardrobe, and walked the manor floors with Bruce, listening as he detailed what his parents had used each room for during his childhood. He'd taken her outside to the garden to sit among his mother's roses, still tended to by the gardeners. She'd noted then how his hand was warmer than she expected, how the roses smelled strong and sweet, how the spring breeze and sun warmed her skin, how the rose petals on the ground looked beautiful and sad.

"I am surprised that no one else has come to see me," she said, with a small smile.

Bruce didn't answer right away. Birdsong filled the silence until he said, "I told them all to stay away."

"For me?" Diana wondered.

He squeezed her hand. "No. For me."

She did smile then; her faced remembered how after all.

XXX

The next night, the hordes came again in her sleep but she woke alone, her throat raw from screaming. Bruce had come running in thirty seconds later, but she said, "It's okay, it's okay, I'm awake. I'm okay."

He stayed until she went back to sleep; nightmares didn't come for her again that night.

That second day he'd relented and allowed Clark and Lois to visit. She'd sat in the parlor with them drinking tea, trying hard not to look miserable, until Lois finally burst.  
"Stop trying to fake it, Di," she cried. "It hurts me to see you suffer but it hurts me more if you try not to show it for our sake."

And so, with Bruce watching from the doorway, Diana cried again and allowed Clark and Lois to comfort her. He managed not to barge in for a few minutes. Once it became too much to bear, he came and sat next to her on the sofa. She leaned into him and relaxed immediately.

If he was honest with himself, so did he.

XXX

The third night, Diana woke up screaming again, only hours after she'd gone to sleep but this time, Bruce did not come. Alfred knocked on her door moments later, entering when she managed to give her permission.

"Your Highness, Master Bruce is out on patrol. May I... that is... would you care for me to sit up with you for a while?" And the old man's blue eyes were so full of hope, she could not deny him. But she did not fall asleep again; rather, Diana let him tell her stories of Bruce's childhood until the sun rose and the man himself hurried into her room wearing gray sweats and a new bruise on his jaw. He looked pale and exhausted.

"I am sorry," he said, but she raised her hand to silence him, sorrow in her eyes.

"No, I am sorry, sorry to be a burden on you both." Before the two men could erupt into protests, she pushed on. "I am grateful for your care, please don't misunderstand; I only wish I did not... need it so much."

And it was that spark of frustration that gave Bruce hope that she would recover; Diana, as a royal and a warrior, bristled when faced with her own vulnerability for too long. This frustration, he saw, was a return of her normal self. When she finally let loose enough to be angry at how he was smothering her, he'd know she was healing.

"It was my choice," Diana continued, that spark still in her voice and her eyes. "I brought it upon myself."

"Forgive me, Your Highness, but though you are right that you chose to return to the Hordes," Alfred said, "it does not follow that you must face the consequences of your healing alone." With that, he stood and addressed Bruce. "You will ring if either of you needs anything." And with determination, Alfred left the room leaving the two of them alone.

There was silence for a moment as they evaluated each other.

"When did you wake?" he wondered. She'd gone to bed before he'd left on that first return to patrol at ten.

"Around midnight," she said. "Alfred has been keeping me company since then."

Exhaustion hovered around Bruce, cloaking him like a shroud. She recognized it because she felt it in her bones.

"Bruce, why don't..." she trailed off, feeling ridiculous and angry that she felt ridiculous. She swore in Greek, then burst out, "Will you please sleep here for the day?"

He almost laughed, but the fragility in her was visible enough as it is. He only smiled and said, "As you wish. But I imagine you'd like me to shower first."

She waved that off airily. "We rarely had that luxury for thirty-seven years, so what is one night?"

So he didn't bother. Bruce climbed under the blankets with her, his entire body humming. She sighed, rolled over, and forced her breathing into even breaths. Finally, he knew, she was asleep. Moments later, so was he. Neither of them woke from nightmares.

"One night" turned into an unspoken routine. From then on, Diana kept night hours, and Bruce did not sleep in his own bed. She did not go with him on patrol, but at times, she would sit up with Alfred in the batcave or receive more visitors. Clark and Lois came by often. Etta could not come but called often. Zatanna came as soon as Bruce allowed it so she could yell at Diana for sending that letter and then cry on the Amazon's shoulder. Other founding members of the Justice League, ones who knew Bruce's identity, would come by. Some, like Barry, treated her as if nothing had happened, frittering away hours on funny stories and gossip; she loved him for it. Others, like Jessica and Baz, who were used to her being in charge and invulnerable, tiptoed around her like she was a wounded animal. She tried to act normal for them; as normal as she could when 3 in the morning was the middle of her day now.

Her dearest friends all felt like strangers, of course, because 400 years of absence doesn't fade away like the details of a nightmare. And though she found herself surprised at how their mannerisms surprised her, where her memories had been insufficient, she knew that for them, only days had passed. And so slowly, she had to get to know them all again.

All except Bruce. Unlike the others, her memory of him was clearer. She'd shared an extra thirty-seven years with him and him alone. His expressions, the nuances in his voice, the way he walked, the sound of his breathing as he slept... she'd memorized it all. And she'd spent centuries missing him; the ache of Steve's loss was slowly replaced with her longing for Bruce and it remained her constant companion alongside the Everlasting Horde.

Sometimes, as Diana and Bruce slept away the day, she would whimper in her sleep or begin tossing about; Bruce, sometimes conscious of it and sometimes not, would throw an arm over her waist and draw her close. Then, Diana would quiet, and sleep peacefully.

In fact, sometimes, Bruce was the one who stirred with unrest, the one comforted out of a nightmare by Diana burrowing further into his embrace. For two weeks, this went on. Bruce slowly began to resume his normal life, sometimes sneaking away for meetings at Wayne Enterprises before returning home to fall asleep in her bed. Other times, Diana would transport herself to the Watchtower while the Batman was on patrol to re-familiarize herself with it's layout, with the support staff whose names she'd forgotten, with her quarters there.

The first time she'd returned to her quarters on the Watchtower, she'd knelt before her small shrine to her patrons until her knees ached, silently praying until the tears came and went away again. Here is where Batman found her. He'd returned home early from patrol to find her missing and Alfred unsure of where she'd gone; he'd panicked.

"Her Highness is not a prisoner or an invalid," the butler had told Bruce calmly. "She left with Mr. Kent, and I did not ask where they were going."

Batman only made some inhuman sound and radioed Superman, who shared that he'd left Diana, at her request, on the Watchtower. She was not on the roll to take any missions unless there was a catastrophic emergency, Clark reasoned, so it seemed okay for her to have her space.

Batman disconnected without a word and transported himself there. He'd let himself into her room with his override code, not bothering to knock. The door shut behind him. She was kneeling before her shrine, eyes closed.

"Diana," he said, pulling his cowl off. He knelt next to her.

She looked over at him, eyes red-rimmed and swollen yet dry. "You are done early," she said, surprised.

He nodded, touching her hand.

She turned her gaze back to the shrine. "I lost track of time. I have been praying and praying; I have many questions and fewer answers. I have asked Athena for strength and wisdom; I hope she will answer in time."

Bruce had no answer for this; he was not a pious man. He let himself calm because she was here with him, not gone, and her hand was soft.

"I was worried," he said, "when you weren't home when I returned." She opened her mouth to answer, but he continued quickly, saying, "I know I should not be, because you can take care of yourself, but you see, I am damaged too, Diana."

She closed her mouth, listening.

"For me, our thirty-seven years ended not so long ago. Just a few months ago, we came back. And I wasn't handling it well. You might remember that I put a tracker on you, before you left the second time."

She smiled.

"I wasn't handling being apart from you well at all, and then, you left a second time. No, no, I am not angry at you for it, not any more. I only want you to know that you are not alone in struggling to adjust."

She considered this for some time, enough for Bruce's knees to begin to ache and his toes to tingle. Then she said, "We will get through this," and for the first time, she sounded like she believed it.


End file.
